


Getting Past Precedent

by Proudmoore



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Eating Disorder, Fluff, Gender Neutral, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proudmoore/pseuds/Proudmoore
Summary: Your long-standing history with an eating disorder comes back to haunt you, but this time you don't have to go through it alone.





	1. Chapter 1

You don’t even realize that Leonard’s been watching you across the table until he reaches out for your free hand, stroking the back of it gently with his fingertips while you push the unfinished half of your salad around on your plate with a fork.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”  Leonard asks over the din of the mess hall.

“Hmm?”  You intone lightly, glancing up at him.  “Oh, yeah, fine, just not feeling the salad today.”

“I can bring you something else,” Leonard offers.  “Some soup, a bowl of ice cream?  You need to eat, darlin’.”

You smile softly at him and shake your head.

“Really, I’m fine,” you assure him.  “I had a big lunch earlier and I’m too distracted to eat.  I’ve got a big project I need to present to the admiralty next week.”

Leonard doesn’t looked pleased with your response, but he leaves it alone for the time being.  Still, you can feel him watching you like a hawk for the rest of your dinner break, and you’re glad to be able to make an exit to get back to your duties when the chron strikes eighteen hundred hours.

The rest of your shift passes by uneventfully, and after you’ve handed your work over to the next shift you make your way to your quarters feeling utterly exhausted.  Shutting the door behind yourself as you step into your private space lets you take your first deep, relaxed breath of the day and you groan tiredly as you step into the kitchenette for a glass of water.

The smell of something rich and savory hits your nose and you glance around, rolling your eyes as you find a tray with some soup, saltine crackers, and fresh fruit slices on it on your countertop with a small, folded piece of paper.  Picking it up, you skim through what’s written on the card with a sigh.

_Eat this and then get some rest.  
_ _Doctor’s orders.  
_ _\- Len_

Setting the card back down on the tray, you turn back to the replicator and retrieve the glass of water you’d set it to pour, sipping from it slowly as you make your way to your bedroom to freshen up for the night.

The rest of the evening passes by without incident and the morning brings more of the same.  Skipping breakfast, you fetch another glass of water and make your way to the couch to start making a dent in some of the reading you have backlogged.  You’re not on active duty today, thankfully, but you still have things to do.  At least you don’t have to change out of your pajamas for anything.

A few hours pass by and you don’t even realize that it’s well after noon.  Your hunger pangs mean nothing to you these days - they’re almost constantly present, so their manifestation isn’t coincident with the fact that you’ve missed lunch any more than it is with any other event.

A knock on your door gets your attention and you curse inwardly as you look at the chron, realizing you’ve missed a lunch date you’d promised to have with Leonard.  Standing swiftly, you throw a hand out to steady yourself against the arm of the couch as dizziness knocks you off kilter for a moment.  You’re just about to attempt to make it to the door to open it when you hear your passcode being punched in and you know instinctively that it’s Leonard on the other side.

“Hey,” you say with a smile, straightening up in an attempt to look like nothing’s amiss.  “I’m so sorry - I totally lost track of time.”

Leonard’s not fooled by your try at nonchalance.  His expression is concerned as he crosses the room to stand beside you and puts a hand under your elbow to help steady you.  He guides you back into a seated position and sits beside you, turning his body so he can face you better.

“What’s going on, Jules?”  He asks.

You furrow your eyebrows, feigning concern.

“What do you mean?”  You ask by way of answer.

“I’m worried about you,” he elaborates.  “For weeks now you’ve barely been eating.  You’re drawn, tired all the time, losing your balance.  I can tell you’re losing weight, and that you’ve been trying to avoid me.”

You sigh deeply and close your eyes, turning your head so you can avert your gaze when you open them again.

“Why haven’t you come down to med bay if you haven’t been feeling well?”  Leonard asks.  “I’m sure Geoff would be happy to take a look at you and get this sorted out.”

You shake your head.

“I’m fine,” you emphasize.

Leonard runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.  Even out of the periphery of your gaze you can tell that he’s not fooled.

“I’m sorry, sugar,” he says quietly.  “But I can’t sit by and watch you sabotage yourself anymore.  I know you haven’t been eating, and with all the other signs, with your untouched soup from last night on the counter…  I can’t pretend like I don’t know what’s going on anymore.  I was hoping you’d come to me, but now that you’re putting yourself at physical risk and it’s becoming unsafe for you to do your job, I have to step in.”

You whip your head around to look at him as he mentions your duties and tears prickle at your eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the anorexia, sugar?”  He asks, his voice defeated, his expression sad.

The tears building in your eyes finally spill over as the word rolls off of his lips.  That dreadful word that you’ve heard so many times before from your parents, your doctors, your therapists.  Biting your lip to keep from sobbing, you reach up and shakily wipe at the tears cascading down your cheeks and clinging to your dry, cracked lips.

“I thought you’d have seen it in my file,” you say, your voice hollow.

Leonard shakes his head, reaching out slowly to rest a hand on your knee.

“I respect your privacy,” he explains.  “I’ve never had any reason to go into your files, so I never have.”

You grit your teeth together to hold back more sobs as you realize that his trust in you has been wildly misplaced throughout all the time you’ve been dating because you’d relied on him finding out about your condition without you having to have that hard conversation.  Burying your face in your hands, you feel yourself trembling under the weight of your emotions.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper.

“No, sweetheart,” Leonard says, moving a little closer.  “Don’t ever apologize for being sick.”

You’re expecting some sort of admonishment for not opening up sooner, but instead you’re met with a protective, comforting embrace.  Leonard pulls you gently into his lap and winds his arms more tightly around you, stroking your back in soothing circles.

The two of you stay there for the next hour, with Leonard holding you through bouts of crying and despondency.  You’re afraid to look up at him, to see any sort of disappointment or disproval in his eyes, but you know you can’t stay like this forever.  After a few minutes of slow, measured breathing and steeling yourself, you finally find the strength to pull away from him and look up.

“Are you going to pull me from duty?”  You ask quietly, stuttering a little for fear of the answer.

“Not yet,” Leonard says softly, reaching out to nudge your chin up to encourage you to keep looking at him as you make to avert your gaze.  “I’m not saying it’s not a possibility down the road if you continue on this trajectory, but no one’s making any rash decisions right now.”

Silence passes between the two of you for a few beats as you consider his words.

“What will it take to keep me on the ship?”  You query further.  “I don’t know if I’m ready to talk to anyone about this…”

“I’m not going to force you to talk to anyone right now,” Leonard reassures you.  “I will encourage you to see one of the ship’s counsellors very soon, but the first step is to make sure your physical health is taken care of.”

You nod, averting your gaze as you consider the implications of his words.  Your heart sinks at the thought of having to rehash the story with Dr. M’Benga and you sigh.

“Can you do it?”  You ask quietly.  “I just don’t want anyone else to know.”

Leonard reaches out to take your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I think I can swing it,” he agrees. “With my experience in psychiatry I’m probably the best qualified on board to handle your case and I’m sure Starfleet could be persuaded if they have any issue with it.”

“Alright,” you say after a moment of letting his words resonate.  “I’m guessing you want to do this now?”

“If this has been going on for as long as I think it has, the sooner the better,” Leonard offers.

You nod and sigh, gesturing toward the door.

“After you,” you say flatly.

You watch Leonard as he gets to his feet and reach up to take his hand as he offers it to help you up.  As soon as you’re on your feet, the edges of your vision start to grey out a little bit and you sway, nearly toppling back onto the couch before Leonard catches you and pulls you in close to help support you.

“Easy, darlin’,” he says softly. “I’ve got you.”

You lean into him, letting him take some of your weight until you feel a little steadier.  He’s still got a hold of the hand he helped you up by and as you regain your balance, his other hand comes up as well, his fingertips finding the pulse point in your wrist easily.  You still and allow him to measure your heart rate, leaning your head against his shoulder as he does.

“Your pulse is racing, sugar,” he says with a frown.  “Come on, let’s get you looked after.”

He lets go of your hand and wraps an arm around your waist to support you as he leads you slowly out of your quarters.  It takes less than three minutes for the two of you to reach medical and when you do Leonard leads you straight over to a private room.  He gives you a hand up onto the bio bed and rests a palm gently on your shoulder.

“Lie back,” he instructs you.

You do as you’re told and close your eyes as the bio bed whirrs to life beneath you.  Leonard works over you in silence for the next several minutes and you resign yourself to behaving.  Eventually, when several more minutes pass by without incident, you open your eyes and glance over at him, finding him poring over what you assume to be your results on his PADD.

“What’s up, doc?”  You ask as you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, worried for the answer.

“Your results aren’t ideal,” he explains.  “But they’re not as bad as I expected.  Before I let you go I’m going to give you a shot of something that’ll bring your electrolytes back into balance and supplement some of the trace nutrients you’re deficient in.  After that it’ll be up to you to start reintroducing food so you can get everything back to a healthy level.”

The mere thought of having to eat twists at your stomach and makes you feel sick, but you nod anyway knowing you have no choice if you want to stay on the Enterprise and carry on your research. Your thoughts are racing so much that you don’t even realize you’ve withdrawn into all sorts of worst case scenarios and dreadful outcomes until you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, jarring you back into the present.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He presses softly.

You take a slow, shuddering breath and nod as your lip trembles – a prelude to more tears.

“I’m scared,” you say between sobs. “I’m not good at talking to people and I hate talking about myself most of all and I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can eat anything now even if I try.”

Leonard steps as close to the bed as he can and leans closer to you, wrapping his arms around you.  He pulls you into a tight hug and presses a kiss to your forehead as he murmurs soft reassurances and promises.

“You can do it,” Leonard assures you. “I promise.  I know you, darlin’ – you’re more than strong enough to beat this. You beat it once, you can beat it again, and you don’t have to do it alone.  I’m here for you.  I’ll be with you every step of the way if you want me to be.  I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

You nod numbly, reassured but now also afraid of letting him down even more.

“What if I’m  _not_  strong enough?”  You whisper.

“Then we pick you up, dust you off, and try again,” Leonard says softly.  “It’s okay to get it wrong, to need more than one try, to fail and have to start over.  All I ask is that you communicate with me.  If you tell me that you’re spiraling, I can help you get back on track.”

“Okay,” you say weakly, reaching up with a shaky hand to wipe away your tears only to be foiled by Leonard’s hand coming up to do it for you.

“Besides,” he says as he carefully rubs away the thin rivulets of water on your cheeks.  “Even failure is progress in a forward trajectory; it means you got out there and tried, and that’s all I can ask of you.”

His words are reassuring even though they don’t do much to quell the terror in your heart and you grip him just a little tighter, a little closer, as though to draw strength from him with which to steel your resolve.  He keeps his arms wrapped around you for as long as you need them there and pulls away slowly even when you’re finally ready to let go and sit back.

You fold your hands in your lap as Leonard steps away a few moments later, watching him bustle around and prepare the hypo he’d mentioned.  You obediently expose your neck when he returns to your side and close your eyes tightly as he injects you, relaxing when his thumb rubs gentle circles over the injection site to help soothe the prickling there.

“Let’s head up to my quarters,” Leonard suggests, dropping his hand away from your neck and stepping aside to dispose of the hypo cartridge.  “I want you to have lunch with me.  We’ll start small – I’ll make you a cup of herbal tea – and work our way up from there.”

“I hope you’re not expecting a miracle,” you murmur.

Leonard shakes his head, returning to your side and offering you a hand down from the bio bed.

“An attempt at a bowl of soup, that’s all I ask,” he assures you.  “And if it’s too much, too soon, we’ll think of something else.”

“Okay,” you agree quietly.  “Thank you, Len.  Not just for this…  For everything.  For not being angry with me, for not being disappointed in me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he says gently, his voice thick with heartache for you.  “I can tell this hasn’t gone well for you in the past, and I’m the one who’s sorry.  I wish I could have reassured you sooner.”

You smile weakly, your spirit buoyed by hope again, and you finally hop off of the bed.  You lean in to embrace Leonard again briefly and reach out to entwine the fingers of one of your hands with one of his.

“I’m sure I’m going to need reassurance often over the next few months,” you say.  “So hold that thought – there’ll be more than enough time for all of that.”

Leonard squeezes your hand and nods, turning to make his way out of the room with you at his side.  As the two of you make your way out of sick bay and toward his quarters, you do your best to focus on the small flickering flame of hope you feel inside rather than the crippling amount of doubt and dread.  A weight has been lifted off of your shoulders with Leonard finding out about your condition, and while you’re still reeling from the revelation, you also feel somewhat better prepared to face whatever comes your way.

You know that with Leonard by your side, you can handle anything the universe throws at you.


	2. Shifting Paradigms

You stare at the rivets in the ceiling of the exam room as you lie on a bio bed, awaiting your fate.  You’ve been feeling dizzy on and off for a couple of weeks and the episode you’d had earlier this morning had scared you badly enough that you’d finally decided to come in to med bay.  At the end of your shift you’d made your way over and had quickly been ushered to a private room by a concerned-looking Christine.

Now, you wait.

Your heart beats heavily in your chest as you wonder what Leonard’s going to say when he comes in.  You’ve been dodging him for weeks, having had more than enough of the constant monitoring of your weight, your eating habits, your electrolyte levels.  You were supposed to come in at least once or twice weekly to check in with him during your recovery, but you couldn’t do it anymore and so you’d stopped.  

To his credit, he hasn’t pulled you from your post or come chasing after you.

You turn your head away at the sound of the door to the room sliding open a few seconds later, not ready to face Leonard just yet.  You hear his footsteps drawing closer, stopping at your side.  You wait for his touch but it doesn’t immediately come.  The bio bed beneath you whirrs to life a moment later, though, and you bite your lip, bracing yourself for an onslaught of his concern.

“Hey darlin’,” he says softly.  “What brings you in today?”

“Dizziness,” you say quietly.

He makes a wordless noise of acknowledgement.  

“When did it start?”

You shrug, closing your eyes so you can turn your head back to a more neutral position without having to look at him just yet.  The reddish haze behind your eyelids dims a little as the lights are turned down and you realize he must think the brightness is what’s got you hiding away.

“It’s been on and off for a couple of weeks.”

You hear Leonard move away and pull open some drawers across the room.  Opening your eyes, you watch him out of the periphery of your vision, tracking him as he returns to your bedside and sets a couple of things down on a tray table next to him.

“Would it be alright if I checked your pulse?”  He asks, his tone low and soothing.

You’re a bit surprised by the question, though you suppose you shouldn’t be; Leonard is nothing if not a consummate professional and a gentleman.  He’s also well aware of your anxiety.  You nod, taking a slow, deep breath as he reaches out and gently grasps your wrist.  His touch is warm and familiar, though its clinical purpose keeps you from relaxing at its presence.  You can feel your pulse reverberating off of his fingertips and you know it’s too fast, but Leonard doesn’t comment.  After a minute or so, he sets your arm back down at your side, gently patting it.

“Let’s get your blood pressure,” he murmurs.

You offer him your arm as he reaches for a cuff.  It’s definitely not your favorite procedure but you bear it in silence, trusting Leonard to do his best to make it as comfortable as possible.  You shiver as he rolls up your sleeve as far as it’ll go, pressing the cold disc of his stethoscope to your forearm.  Closing your eyes once more, you wait for the measurement to be over, relaxing a little once the cuff is removed again.

“Have you had any other symptoms?”

You shake your head as you look up at him, wordlessly giving him permission to touch you as he moves to continue his exam.  You do your best not to blink as he shines a light into your eyes, holding still as he checks your temperature, ears, and throat as well.  You tense a little as his hands come to rest on your neck to check your lymph nodes, feeling a little claustrophobic.  Leonard seems to sense your discomfort, though, and keeps the exam brief and gentle.  He leans in over you when he finishes there, waiting until you meet his gaze to speak.

“Doing alright so far?”

His tone is neutral, but a small smile softens the question, putting you at ease a little.  

“Yes, thank you.”

He pulls his stethoscope from around his neck, pausing a moment before slipping it on.

“I’m going to slip my hand under your shirt to listen to your heart.  Is that okay?”

You nod, earning yourself another smile.  You avert your gaze, unsure of where to look or what to do as he gets to work, and you try your best not to focus on the incessant pounding of your heart against his hand.  He takes his time to be thorough, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s found something amiss or that the exam will never end, but eventually he pulls away.  He holds a hand out to help you up.  You take it, allowing him to pull you into a seated position, and lean forward out of habit as he reaches around to listen to your lungs instead.

“Deep breath for me,” he instructs.

You inhale and exhale each time he moves the stethoscope.  You’re a little bit dizzy by the time he’s done and you’re grateful for the reassuring hand on your shoulder as he pulls away.  He sets his stethoscope aside, staying close until you feel a little more stable before settling himself on a rolling stool next to the bio bed.  You breathe a little easier now that he’s finished, but you’re still a bit anxious about your condition.  Leonard speaks a moment later, though, giving you a little peace of mind.

“Everything looks fine, sweetheart,” he assures you.  “I’m sure it’s nothing serious, but if it’s alright with you, I’d like to take some blood just to check that everything is in range.”  
  
Your heart sinks a little at the thought of another blood test, but you know he wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.  You sigh shakily, nodding in agreement.  Leonard reaches over to put a hand on your knee, giving it a little squeeze.

“I’ll take good care of you, sugar,” he promises.  “We’ll get you taken care of.”

You manage a small smile at that.

Leonard gives you a few moments to relax before giving your knee one final squeeze and moving away to get things ready for the draw.  You know that ordinarily he’d send Christine or another nurse in to do it, but he knows how cagey being in med bay makes you and so he handles as much of your care on his own as is feasible, never once complaining about your anxiety or how much time it sometimes takes to help make you feel comfortable.  Your heart aches at the thought of how kind he is to you and it’s hard to repress the feeling that you don’t deserve him.  

A single tear slips down your cheek as you consider how ungrateful your disappearing act must seem to him, but it doesn’t get far as he returns to your side and brushes it away.

“Sorry,” you murmur, sniffing.

Leonard shakes his head.

“Don’t ever apologize for your feelings,” he insists softly.  “Just tell me how I can help.”

“You’re already doing so much for me.”

Leonard chuckles softly.

“I took an oath to help people.  If that means taking my time to make you feel comfortable, then I’m doing exactly what I need to.”

You flash him a watery smile and he slowly moves closer, giving you the chance to push away if you’re not ready.  You welcome his embrace, though, and wrap your arms around him as he envelops you.  He’s warm and solid, and you draw strength from the press of his chest against yours.  You cling for a long moment before finally pulling away, giving him a go ahead nod and holding out your arm for the blood test.

He talks you through it like he always does, preparing you for the uncomfortable sting of the needle, distracting you from its presences as he fills a couple of vials with blood.  He sticks a bandage into place when he finishes up, pulling your sleeve down and leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the puncture wound.

He glances over his shoulder as he moves off to send the blood out for testing, watching you fidget with your sleeves a little as you wait for him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

It’s a statement, not a question, but his tone lacks any venom or criticism.  You feel the uncomfortable flutter of butterflies in your stomach for a moment as you grope frantically for an excuse, but you decide that you owe him the truth.  You hang your head, nervously picking at your fingernails.

“I know,” you admit.  “And I’m sorry.  Truly.”

Leonard finishes up labeling the vials and briefly opens the door to the exam room, handing them off to Christine.  He turns to face you as the door slides shut again, shaking his head.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.  You have your reasons, and I can respect that.  Do you want to talk about it?”

You consider his question for a moment, feeling dizziness wash over you.  The bio bed starts to chirp as your heart rate picks up a bit, but Leonard is quick to silence it.  He comes to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder and encouraging you to lie down.  You acquiesce easily.

“It was too much,” you explain at long last.  “I couldn’t stand being the patient anymore.  I couldn’t handle another needlestick, another weigh-in.  I was feeling better, so I thought I would be alright on my own.”

Leonard nods, stroking your arm, his fingertips gently settling at your wrist after a few moments.  You can tell that he’s feeling your pulse as he glances up at the monitor, corroborating what he’s seeing with what he can feel, but this time it’s less nerve wracking than before.

“You’ve been doing a pretty good job of things on your own,” Leonard agrees.  “I’ve seen you at the mess hall for meal times, and I’ve been keeping an eye on your vitals remotely.  I had a peek at your replicator records, too, and I might have an idea of what’s causing your dizziness.”

You frown, glancing up at him.

“Why didn’t you call me in sooner?”

Leonard smiles softly, reaching up with his free hand to cup your cheek.

“Because I trust you,” he emphasizes.  “I trust you to know your own body, and I trust you to know when you might need a hand.  I’d rather let you come to me than to make you feel crowded or forced into anything.”

You feel ashamed for not coming in sooner as you realize how much faith he’s put in you.  You also feel some anxiety about what he thinks might be causing your symptoms.

“What do you think is wrong with me?”

“Nothing serious,” he assures you.  “Looking at your replicator records, I think you might just be hypoglycemic.”

You frown.

“But I’ve been eating plenty,” you muse aloud.

Leonard nods.

“And that’s great,” he agrees.  “But you haven’t been getting the right balance of nutrients.  You’re eating a lot of foods high in vitamins, minerals, and proteins, but you might need to up your carbohydrates.  They’ll help keep your blood sugar from dropping and keep you from getting dizzy.”

The thought of eating more carbohydrates makes you anxious and you can tell that Leonard realizes that.

“It doesn’t have to be anything major,” he explains.  “Some whole grains, more fruit instead of just vegetables, and some sugars here and there like honey in your tea instead of sweetener.  You can work your way up to other things.”

You take a slow, steadying breath at the prospect of making changes to the diet you’ve been comfortable with for a few weeks now, and eventually nod, even if you are a little unsure.

“Do I have to go back to checking in every few days?”

Leonard shakes his head.

“You’re doing really well,” he says warmly.  “I’m happy to see you for regular quarterly physicals and on your own terms as necessary from now on.”

You sag in relief, feeling yourself relax almost completely for the first time since coming in to med bay.  You can tell it has an effect on your heart rate as Leonard’s grip on your wrist finally eases and he rests his hand on your shoulder instead.

“You’ve got this, sweetheart,” he says softly.  “This is just a little hiccup, and I’m proud of you for coming in when you did.  I’ll keep you in here for a little bit, stabilize your blood sugar, and you’ll be good as new.”

“Thank you,” you murmur.  “It makes it a little easier to come in when I know you’re here.”

Leonard leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll always be here, sugar.  I promise.”

The challenge of making changes and stepping outside of your comfort zone seems a little less daunting with Leonard by your side, and as you settle in for a temporary stay in med bay until your results are in, you take solace in his unwavering faith in you.  

You’re hopeful that maybe, just maybe, your resolve will stick this time.


End file.
